Review – James McMurtry’s “The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy”

photo: Mary Keating-Bruton


Alt-Country (#564) on the Country DDS.

James McMurtry is such a master class songwriter and this truth has become so self-evident, you might even hear other songwriters referred to as the “James McMurtry” of their era or region. But James McMurtry is the James McMurtry of James McMurtry’s. He ain’t dead or hung up the guitar just yet. And until he does, and for as long as he continues to release albums, it remains his era. So you best stop down and take a listen, son.

A James McMurtry song almost always starts with character and setting, just like the works of his pops, legendary Texas novelist Larry McMurtry. You’ve got to believe that at the age of 63 and nearly four decades into his career, James is probably done with the comparisons. But it’s an apt one nonetheless, whether the younger McMurtry is making fiction, or singing about his own life like in the new song “Sailing Away” that makes references to opening for Jason Isbell, and finds James wondering openly if trying to remain a relevant musician is even worth it anymore.

The results of McMurtry’s new album The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy would argue that it definitely is. It’s not just the way he can awaken character and setting in the mind’s eye, and in a much greater efficiency than some long-winded novel. It’s the clever little references he drops in each song, like trying to rip the door handle off your vehicle whenever you’ve locked the keys inside—something we’ve all experienced. Or maybe it’s the reference to a Weird Al Yankovic parody—something that’s probably a little more obscure.

But it’s through all of these lyrical mechanisms that McMurtry explores the complexities of human life, and the dilemmas it often creates for itself. Boy the timing couldn’t be better to unveil a song about post 9/11 hysteria and the lessons we didn’t learn from it like McMurtry does with “Annie.” Unafraid to get political, but uninterested in doing so in a simple way that misunderstands the nuance of an issue, McMurtry makes you think, even if you might not agree.

In a misunderstood interpretation, some might take the song “Sons of the Second Sons” as a scathing rebuke of the Southern identity as opposed to an exploration into the generational architecture behind endemic poverty and the often fruitless search for leadership out of it. McMurtry’s has a gift for stimulating the brain and broadening perspectives by allowing the audience to see life through someone else’s eyes.


Sometimes the lessons of a James McMurtry song to be unraveled are multiple and intertwined. “Pinocchio in Vegas” might initially seem like a humorous hypothetical about the post Disney life of a beloved character. But in truth it’s all about how we often lose precious information about our lives in the passing of our parents. This is the kind of multi-layered songwriting that has put McMurtry at the pinnacle of the craft according to many of his peers.

The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy is a distinctly songwriter-based old school alt-country album with some roots inflections, but with a lot of rock influences as well. It was produced by Don Dixon who also produced McMurtry’s third album Where’d You Hide the Body? from 1995. Appearances include Sarah Jarosz, Charlie Sexton, Bonnie Whitmore, and Bukka Allen. McMurtry’s backing band of BettySoo on accordion & backing vocals, Cornbread on bass, Tim Holt on guitar, and Daren Hess on drums are also on the album.

While growing up, counterculture icon Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters would pay visits to the McMurtry house. Apparently it was documented in Tom Wolfe’s Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Even more crazy, at one point Kesey sketched a picture of a young James McMurtry. It became the cover for the new album. Ken’s widow Faye ended up marrying Larry McMurtry later in life. The title track is inspired by McMurtry’s father’s visions of a black dog and a wandering boy that he would see as he suffered from dementia.

Someday, and hopefully well into the future, it will be relevant to broach the subject of who the James McMurtry of the era is. But for now, we still have the actual James McMurtry here with us in the flesh. And as long as he continues to release albums like The Black Dog, it’s his era.

8.3/10

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Purchase/stream The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy

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